The bet | Charles Leclerc

• Twele •

Friday

Exhaustion echoes through every part of my body, as I stand in the hotel elevator, watching the floor grow higher and higher.

Today was great. The interview was great. And god, qualifying was great.

The circuit has never been so tense through a session of qualifying, the possible pole sitter becoming a new driver constantly.

All though, mine along with a lot of others' eyes, were glued shut on two specific drivers.
Leclerc and Verstappen.

Those two were battling like their life depended on it.

And I couldn't tell if I loved or hated it. It was exhilarating, causing me to be on the edge of my seat constantly, but it was also terrifying.

Watching two people I undeniably care about push the cars to the absolute limit, risking their lives in the process, is absolutely horrid.

So when Max drove over the finish line, setting the final pole lap, securing the best spot for tomorrow, relief spread over me like a wild fire.

Leclerc looked quite the opposite of that.
He left the paddock furious.

The elevator dings, telling me we're at my floor. Forcing my body into movement once again, I step out of the elevator.

My floor is empty and cold, the long hallway dark at this time of the night. My footsteps echo rhythmically, as I pass the never ending hotel rooms.

Room 512, 513, 514..Only one away from mine now.

A dark shadow makes me stop in a sudden.

Something, someone, is standing outside my door.

My heart pumps aggressively.

Only Richard knows which room I live in, but he's still at the paddock...

My breath becomes ragged. I narrow my eyes, praying the darkness disappears, revealing the mystery figure.

But it doesn't.

I can't just stay here. But I can't just go over there.

What if someone wants to harm me...?

One foot steps in front of the other incredibly slowly. One step. Two steps. I can defend myself. Three steps. Vater taught me selfdefense.

"Isa?" The voice belonging to the dark shadow calls into the darkness.

Even in the depths of darkness, I can recognize that voice immediately.

"Leclerc?" I ask into the thin air, my brows sharp.

"Isa." He replies in a breath, taking a step forward.

I do the same, his face, his features, becoming slightly visible in the hallway, only few steps separating us.

"What are you doing?" I respond, my voice instinctively becoming a whisper. My face is tense with concern as I stare up at Leclerc's dark figure.

His deep breathing echoes in the hallway. "I..." He begins, but his words trail off, as he takes yet another step forward.

Towards me.

His cold breath lands on my neck, my heartbeat becoming a trembling, aggressive pump in my chest. We're only few inches apart.

Up this close, I can sense his usual features. His soft green eyes, lighting up in the dark, his slight stubble of a beard, his blush lips...

I hold my breath, incapable of stopping my staring.

"I can't stop thinking about you."

Leclerc's words hang in the air thickly.

It takes a moment before the words settle in my brain, before I register what he's saying. He can't stop thinking about... me?

Leclerc edges further towards me, my chest brushing against his.

"Leclerc.." is all I manage to get out, my voice a ragged whisper. I should tell him that I can't stop thinking about him either.

That he's the last thought I have before I sleep. That his face, his words, haunt me in the night.

"Isa, please" He whispers back, his hoarse voice practically pleading. A shiver runs down my spine, my heart beating in my ears.

Fucking hell.

I'm usually an adamant woman, I'll stand my ground until it burns under me.

But when I'm around Charles Leclerc, every stubborn, every determined, every immovable part of me, fades away.

For Charles Leclerc, I'm a weak woman.

My gaze snaps to the floor, the tension, the temptation in this hallway, too much. I could fuck up everything, by just moving an inch closer.

Leclerc's cold fingers press against my lowered chin. Electricity spikes through my body, my breathing uncontrollable.

Lightly, he raises my chin with his touch, bringing my gaze up to him. His eyes stare intensely back into mine.

Slowly, and fucking beautifully, a smile creeps up his lips, curling into a smug smirk across his face. "I have an offer for you then" He whispers.

My eyes are locked with his, my heart beating rhythmically with his.

This is stupid. I should say no. Isa, say no.

"Okay..?" I whisper back, pressing my lips together tightly. Somehow I just agreed to his idea, agreed to whatever offer he's come up with now.

"Would you like another bet?" His face is inches away from mine, his every word hitting my face with a cold breath.

With those simple four words, Charles Leclerc has got me under his control once again.
I can never withstand a bet.

Eyes locked, heart trembling, I crack a smile.

That's enough of an answer for Leclerc, a grin spreading across his face.

"What are we betting on?" I ask, my whisper echoing through the silent hotel hallway.

"Whether I win tomorrow." Leclerc answers.

He's staring P2.

Max is P1.

He isn't going to win.

"I'll let you start" I allow him, his fingers still brushing against my chin, his touch nearly belonging there.

The smirk returns to Leclerc's lips. "I'll bet on that I win tomorrow" predictable.. "And if I'm correct, you have to kiss me"

Now I truly can't breathe.

"Leclerc." I quickly argue, but he stops me.

"Shh" He whispers, putting his finger against my lips, shushing me. Immediately, I'm silent. "Think of what you can get out of it"

What I can get out of the bet... How I can take advantage of the situation. Take advantage of him.

My mind starts running, ideas flowing wildly, as my gaze stays dead set on Leclerc's green eyes. Oh. I've got the perfect idea.

A smile curls up my soft lips. "I want an exclusive interview with Lewis" I propose, my eyes sharp and determined.

"What?" Leclerc immediately replies, his face coated in confusion. Hadn't expected that, huh?

I nod at him firmly, confirming it. That's what I want. I want a tell all with Lewis. I want to be the first interviewer he speaks exclusively to about the Ferrari situation.

"That's what I'll win, if you don't win tomorrow" I repeat, daring Leclerc on.

Tension fills the air between us.

My heart beats uncontrollably.

"Deal." Leclerc cracks a smile, offering his hand.

I accept it with a firm handshake. Deal.